Shattered (Dividing Line #5)

by Heather Atkinson

  “That’s what I want to know,” interjected Frankie, voice dripping with pleasure.

  “I‘m going to get medieval,” said Ryan, selecting a pair of pliers. He sauntered up to Gavin, enjoying drawing out the suspense and making him squirm. Ryan looked down at him pitilessly. “You’re going to suffer a lot of pain, whether you tell me what I want to know or not. If you cooperate you might possibly get out of here alive.”

  “Fuck you,” said Gavin with a boldness he didn’t really feel.

  “Not a good start but then again you Sugars have never been overloaded with brains. Your oldest brother, Alan, wasn’t too gifted cerebrally either. He’d no idea I was going to kill him until I pressed the gun to his head.” Ryan had killed the eldest Sugar brother years ago in a vain attempt to set up the Maguires. Rachel had seen right through him. She was the only person who had ever managed to get the better of him.

  Gavin strained against his bonds, lips drawing back over his gums to reveal his gold teeth. “Bastard, I’ll kill you.”

  “No you won’t. You and your brothers are all going to pay for what you did to Rachel. You stood back and did nothing while she was tortured, you fucking cowards, you don’t touch women.”

  “But she’s no ordinary woman, is she? She’s a daft bitch who thinks she’s an equal to men. Alex was going to remind her that she’s just a woman by giving her a good seeing to.”

  Ryan grasped Gavin’s hair firmly in one hand and yanked his head back so hard his neck lifted off the table. When he opened his mouth in a grimace Ryan grasped one of the gold teeth with the pliers and started to pull. Gavin thrashed and grunted as the tooth started loosen. There was a loud crack and he screamed as the tooth finally gave way, blood gushing from the raw wound.

  Ryan held up the tooth for Frankie to see. “You like collecting body parts, well this is fucking mine,” he snarled, his anger enveloping him.

  “You can keep it Pal. I only like things I can cut off with an axe,” said Frankie, an excited grin splitting his face in two. He was enjoying himself.

  Riley watched from the corner of the room, leaning back against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. Ryan’s dark side was really coming out, the cool calm exterior crumbling beneath the force of the wrath it struggled to contain. Riley understood the desperate need to inflict the same pain that had been inflicted on his wife.

  Ryan turned back to Gavin. “Now do I have your full attention?”

  Slowly Gavin nodded.

  “Does Alex have any more brothels?”

  “I bet your wife secretly loved it in there. Alex said she was a slag.”

  When he started to laugh Ryan grasped the second gold tooth with the pliers and viciously twisted, causing him as much pain as possible. Gavin screamed and kicked, his legs flailing uselessly.

  “Make all the noise you want, no one can hear you,” said Ryan as he ripped the tooth from the man’s head. He pulled on a latex glove and shoved his fingers into the gaping holes, sending Gavin into a fresh bout of screaming. Ryan followed this up by punching him twice in the face, bouncing his head off the gurney.

  “If you don’t start telling me something useful the next time I pull a tooth I’ll make sure some of your jaw comes away with it. Now start fucking talking,” Ryan yelled.

  “He…he has two more,” Gavin panted, struggling to catch his breath, lisping slightly. He screwed his eyes tight shut. “Jesus it hurts.”

  “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  This time Ryan went for the fingernails on Gavin’s right hand, tearing three of them out with the pliers in quick succession. As Gavin released another scream he dropped the bloodied nails down his throat and clamped his hand over his mouth so he couldn’t spit them out.

  “Swallow them,” Ryan told him.

  Gavin looked up at him with pleading, bulging eyes.

  Ryan put down the pliers and placed his other hand over Gavin’s nose, cutting off his air supply. Gavin was left with no choice but to swallow, grimacing as the nails scratched his throat on the way down.

  “Where are the brothels?” bellowed Ryan, his whole body shaking. He had thought the violence would salve his anger but on the contrary it was only making it worse and it was taking all of his willpower to stop himself from killing the man.

  Gavin rhymed off two addresses that Jez hastily scribbled down.

  “That’s it?” said Ryan.

  Nervously Gavin eyed the pliers lying next to his head. “That’s it, honestly.”

  He physically jumped when Ryan made a sudden movement, relief washing over him when he pulled a photograph out of his jean’s pocket.

  “Do you know this woman?” said Ryan, holding it up with bloodied fingers.

  Gavin squinted to see, sweat running into his eyes, making them sting. “She looks familiar.”

  “She was at the brothel Rachel was taken to. Alex murdered her sister, Laila.”

  “Sabine,” exclaimed Gavin, now eager to please.

  “Apparently she was sold to someone else. Do you know who?”

  “Vladimir Vasilyev, he has his own brothel, low class. It’s really scummy. He’s the one with the contacts abroad that procure the women for Alex.”

  Jez made a note of the address Gavin gave them. He studied the paper, committing the addresses to memory before destroying it.

  “I don’t know anything else. Will you let me go now?”

  Ryan glared down at him, face as hard as marble and Gavin felt his bowels loosen.

  “Untie him,” said Ryan.

  “Are you serious?” spluttered Frankie.

  Ryan ignored him. “Untie him,” he repeated in a voice it was impossible to disobey.

  Mikey and Jez untied the man and he rolled off the gurney and hit the floor hard. He dragged himself upright, repeating the words thank you over and over.

  They all watched as Gavin limped as quickly as he could towards the door, their eyes constantly flicking between him and Ryan.

  “You’re not letting him go,” roared Frankie, throwing his hands into the air.

  Mikey and Jez started to protest too but Ryan ignored them all, able to see nothing but Rachel lying on the floor of that warehouse, almost battered to death, her throat cut. Then he saw his kids crying after only just escaping from the fire with their lives.

  “I didn’t say you could leave.”

  Ryan’s voice cut through the noise of the other men’s chatter, instantly silencing them.

  Gavin stopped and turned, eyes wide and scared. “But I told you what you wanted to know.”

  “You nearly killed my whole family. Did you seriously think you were just going to walk out of here?” said Ryan, advancing on him. “I only let them untie you to even up the odds.”

  “I didn’t hurt any of your family, it was all Alex,” said Gavin, hastily backing up towards the door.

  “You were a part of it too,” replied Ryan, his face taking on that unnerving stony appearance.

  “But…but…,” babbled Gavin, his terrified brain unable to come up with a logical argument.

  “I’ll give you a chance. Fight me,” he said before slamming his fist into Gavin’s face.

  Riley, Mikey and Jez watched in silence while Frankie shouted out encouragement, cheering when there was the splintering of bone or mashing of cartilage. “Ding ding end of round one,” he declared when Gavin lay on the floor not moving or breathing, face obliterated beneath the force of Ryan’s fists, limbs splayed out at odd angles after they’d snapped beneath the relentless attack. “What a woofter. He didn’t even get one punch in.”

  Ryan stood in the centre of the room, blood dripping from his knuckles, taking in long deep breaths, trying to calm down. He still burned from the inside out but at least the torment had eased slightly.

  Mikey walked to the door to call in his two henchmen, who were on guard duty.

  “Take it to the freezers,” he told them, gesturing to Gavin’s body.

  As G
avin was dragged away, leaving a bloody trail behind him, Ryan washed his hands in the sink in the corner, scrubbing away the gore. He had thought all this was behind him and now he’d just beaten someone to death. Even when he’d been in the business he’d never been so brutal. Yes he’d tortured people to get information but he’d put them out of their misery quickly, usually with a bullet to the back of the head. He leaned on the sink and closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his famous control but it was being eroded by the burning inside him. The only way it could be exorcised was by Alex Maguire’s death.

  He thought back to that last wonderful day before they’d learnt of Martina’s death and their lives had changed forever. He’d woken up with Rachel in his arms and the boys had run into their bedroom. They’d gone swimming then enjoyed a nice family dinner. Now he was stuck in a torture chamber with a ginger psychopath and blood on his hands.

  The tap on his shoulder made him whip round and draw back his fist, but it was only Mikey holding a clean bundle of clothes.

  “Easy, it’s just me. You should change. We keep these down here in case of situations like this.”

  Ryan looked down at himself and saw his clothes were splattered with blood.

  “Thanks,” he said, removing his t-shirt and jeans and pulling on the clean clothes. He hesitated and looked at Mikey. “Has anyone else worn these?”

  “No, they’re brand new.”

  “Good.” Ryan couldn’t have borne wearing something Alex might have worn first.

  “You okay Bruv?” Jez said quietly.

  “Fine.” Ryan could see the concern in his brother’s eyes but he lacked the energy to reassure him.

  When Jez wandered across the room to talk to Mikey, Ryan turned to Riley. “Is this how you feel all the time?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “How do you deal with it?”

  He shrugged. “You get used to it.”

  Ryan thought that explained Riley’s tight control. At first he’d thought it was his army training but now he realised that quiet demeanour contained an horrific rage. Come to think of it, his way of standing with his arms folded across his chest gave the impression that he was trying to contain something very big and angry that he would only unleash upon Jasper White. Ryan intended to do the same to Alex Maguire. “It’s burning me up,” he said.

  “There’s only one cure and you know what it is,” replied Riley.

  Ryan nodded. “But I can’t, not yet.”

  “Then you’ll just have to deal with it. There’s no choice.”

  Ryan wished his brother had more answers for him, he wasn’t sure he could deal with it. To take his mind off it he picked up Gavin’s gold teeth off the gurney where he’d left them. They could come in useful.

  “Here, you can put them in this,” said Frankie, producing a small plastic tube with a lid from inside his jacket.

  “Thanks,” said Ryan, accepting it. “You carry these around?”

  “They’re great for storing fingers in. See,” he replied, producing another tube from the opposite jacket pocket complete with a severed finger still wearing a gold ring.

  “Who does that belong to?” said Ryan, glad his voice once again sounded calm.

  “Some fucking ned who thought he was the bollocks. He hasn’t got any of those left either,” he grinned.

  Ryan thought that explained why the Greater Glasgow Police were looking for him.

  “What’s a ned?” said Mikey.

  “Non-educated delinquent. In other words, a fucking turd in a tracksuit,” replied Frankie before roaring with laughter.

  Ryan was keen to move the conversation on before Frankie pulled someone’s testicles out of his jacket pocket too. “Let’s go get Sabine. Hopefully she’s still alive.”

  “Why do we need to bother?” sighed Frankie.

  “This is for Rachel. I made her a promise.”

  “Then that’s your problem. I’ve got a very cosy money-laundering operation going on with a Russian and for all I know they could be related so I am not risking pissing them off. You’re on your own with that one.”

  “No he’s not,” said Riley and Jez in unison. This habit they were developing irritated them both and they frowned at each other.

  “In that case, why don’t you check out the other two brothels?” Ryan told Frankie.

  “Why the fuck should I? It’s a smart business idea.”

  The fire inside Ryan flared, lighting up his eyes and tightening every muscle. Jez and Riley took a step forward, ready to put themselves between him and Frankie should the need arise. Fortunately Ryan remembered Riley’s words and forced himself to contain it. When his demeanour relaxed, so did his brothers.

  “Because we’re trying to hit Alex’s finances,” Ryan patiently explained. “As hardly anyone knows about the brothels I assume the money is going straight to him and don’t forget, he didn’t bother to tell you about them.”

  “You’re right,” said Frankie, his eyes rolling back in his head. “I don’t like being kept in the fucking dark.”

  “We’ll put the attacks on the brothel on Alex so if the Russians do retaliate they’ll take their displeasure out on him instead,” said Ryan wearily, wondering how he could have got involved in this business in the first place. It was one endless fight and he was sick of it. He longed for the peace and happiness of his life in Devon.

  “Nice thinking,” said Frankie. “Turn all his allies against him, cut him off from everyone who might back him up.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You know, I can’t wait to work with you. You’re almost as smart as me. That makes you unique.”

  “Thanks,” he said dryly. “Why don’t you and Mikey check out the other two brothels owned by Alex while me, Riley and Jez find Sabine.”

  Mikey sighed inwardly. He was lumbered with the axe-wielding psychopath again.

  CHAPTER 7

  The hatred in Ryan’s eyes when he looked up at the exterior of the brothel Rachel had been taken to could have cut through the brick. “I’m looking forward to burning the fucking place to the ground,” he said.

  “Yes but there’s something I want to check first,” replied Jez. “When we came here looking for Rachel I noticed something I thought we could use so I got a couple of my men to guard the place.”

  Ryan followed Jez and Riley inside with mixed feelings about being back here. On the one hand he had no urge to see the revolting place again but on the other he wanted to raze it to the ground for what had been done to his wife. He wouldn’t feel easy knowing it was still standing.

  Inside it was deathly silent. Jez’s crew had removed the dead security guards and done a clean-up so no trace of the raid had been left behind. As they walked down the corridor past the bedrooms Ryan spied rumpled beds and horrible sexual paraphernalia left lying around. One room consisted of a complicated system of pulleys and chains, the manacles bloodstained. Ryan averted his gaze, feeling sick, unsure which room Rachel had been held in. He prayed it wasn’t the one with all the chains. He wondered if, to Alex, this place was a simple money-making operation or whether it represented his hatred of women because, judging by his treatment of Rachel, Beth and Martina, he did hate women. He shook himself out of his psychoanalysis. Alex was sick and depraved and this was a symptom of that.

  “What do you want to show us?” said Ryan.

  “A little further,” replied Jez.

  At first Ryan thought they were heading towards the office, but Jez bypassed it and continued on to a small room at the end of another corridor, leading away from the bedrooms, which looked to be nothing but a store cupboard. However inside it was full of electronic equipment and two chairs, one of which was occupied by a pinched-faced man with glasses and a huge domed forehead.

  Ryan frowned at the bank of monitors. “Looks like Alex was recording his clients.”

  “I’ve had Arnold here studying the footage. He’s a whiz with electronics,” said Jez. “What have you found Arnold?”
/>   “Take a look for yourself,” he replied, tapping at the keyboard.

  One of the monitors burst into life, the image of a flabby middle aged man with black hair, back covered in moles, yelling furiously at a cowering girl. She held her hands out before her, crying as he slapped her around the face. He paused to spit on her then dragged her to her feet and threw her face down on the bed to urinate over her, the poor girl sobbing into the mattress.

  “That’s that bloke on TV,” said Arnold. “He’s an actor in that soap opera.”

  “Is he? I don’t watch drivel like that,” said Ryan. “Rachel might know him though.”

  “Like’s to make out he’s squeaky clean, does a lot for children’s charities,” continued Arnold. “He’s always in the papers.”

  “Kids’ charities?” said Jez. “That girl must be fifteen at most. Dirty paedo bastard.”

  “Any other well known faces on here?” Ryan asked Arnold.

  “Just one. I don’t know who he is, but you might.”

  “Why does that face look familiar?” said Jez, frowning at the screen.

  “It’s Harvey Pallister,” replied Ryan. “He’s a TV journalist and broadcaster.”

  “Looks like Alex had himself a little blackmail operation on the side,” said Jez.

  “The rest of the footage was recently wiped. I think it was being saved onto another system then deleted from here,” said Arnold.

  “The question is,” interjected Ryan, “who else does he have compromising footage of?”

  “I think we ought to find out,” said Jez. “Arnold, can you get anything else off here?”

  “It was a professional job. It was probably wiped every day.”

  “Fits in with Alex’s paranoid personality,” said Ryan.

  “But I can have a look,” continued Arnold. “I’ve not found a system yet that can beat me.”

  Half an hour later Arnold and his paraphernalia had cleared out and the downstairs rooms had been saturated with accelerant. As the flames ignited behind Ryan he walked away, a smile curling his lips, feeling like he’d finally done something to avenge Rachel.

  “Hello gentleman, after a little afternoon entertainment?” said Orlov, who ran the brothel for Vladimir. He was delighted to see three obviously prosperous men enter his establishment. His clientele were usually less than savoury.